The Moon and its Dragons
by EllaEmbrey
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts where Voldemort was defeated by Harry Potter, life at Hogwarts had to go on. All the students were required to repeat their year. Draco also returned, more arrogant than ever because he was convinced Harry Potter wouldn't be alive if it weren't for Malfoys. But then he fell in love with the most unlikely person.


"Go away."

"Draco, I just need a minute!"

The girl put her feet in the doorway so Draco couldn't slam the door in her face.

"I don't have one for you right now." Draco said.

"But why?", the girl demanded as she flung open the door.

"That is none of your business."

The Slytherin girl glared at Draco while wrinkling her nose.

"You do know _this_ won't take more than a minute, right?"

"And that one minute will be the time you will have left to live if you don't leave me alone right this second."

The girl leaned against the doorway with her hands crossed. She didn't care for the not-so-subtle threat. Slytherins threaten each other, and everyone else, all the time. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. Until it does.

"I'm not going to beg for it, you know."

Draco was getting impatient. He had other _things_ –or _people_ \- on his mind.

"I'm not asking you to beg. I'm asking you –at this moment still _politely-_ to _leave."_

Silence. The Slytherin girl tried her best to keep in the unladylike words. This was still Draco Malfoy after all. He was a Pureblood, belonging to one of the oldest, even though somewhat disgraced, wizard families. So she just looked at Draco with eyes that could almost kill.

But Draco was immune to such things.

"Deborah. Leave."

The Slytherin returned to her chambers with disappointment and frustration written all over her face. At least, in her case how much emotion she was able to show. Deborah rarely showed emotion. Het resting bitch face was the only kind of emotion most people ever saw. But inside she was really annoyed. She just wanted a quicky. Literally less than a fucking minute. Draco has always obliged before. What could possibly be bothering him that he didn't even want a quicky? Deborah pushed her face in her pillow in utter frustration. Frustration due to the lack of orgasms. Due to the lack of orgasms _by Draco._ Because that makes a difference. That makes all the difference in the world. Well, her world. Shit. That boy is good in what he does. He wasn't lame like other guys she's been with. He was a total Alpha. Under his spell she would do anything he would ask her to do. Get on her knees so he could take her from behind, for example. Deborah pushed her face in her pillow again with her mouth opened in a silence scream. It was torture to remember all that pleasure.

"I should just fuck a Gryffindor. That'll teach him", she thought just before falling asleep.

But Deborah knows very well that Draco wouldn't even care. Their arrangement was that they didn't have one. They'd just fuck whenever she was in the mood and he was available. Aside from that there was nothing. Draco didn't even bother to make clear that there was nothing apart from the meaningless, but amazing, sex. Draco never requested her. She was always the one who went to him. A little disappointing that he never asked her to fuck. Ugh. I mean, she was pretty and she has quite a few admirers. But those admirers were lame. _Weak_. But she couldn't complain. She wasn't allowed to complain. She knew what she was getting herself into. She wouldn't even dare to think to fall in love with _him._ She was aware of the rumors. The other girls he'd _just_ fuck. That's how she knew he was available like that in the first place.

Not too far away Draco was pacing back and forth in his private quarters. As Head Boy he had the luxury of a private space. Which came in handy in times like this where he could just mutter _murmelio,_ a spell that was taught to him by the girl he was now so frustrated about. No one would hear his screams and the occasional throwing of fragile stuff against the wall. Which he could easily fix with _reparo_. He wasn't frustrated due of a lack of sex. He could have anyone he wanted. And so far he did get everyone he wanted, without even asking or making a move. Yes, even the _bitch_ from Ravenclaw he was frustrated about. But that was not the issue.

The issue was how it _looks_. Not that he cared how it looks, but his father and mother would. Even though they didn't side with Voldemort during the last battle, they still were convinced that some families were better than others. Families like the Lovegoods were a disgrace to the World of Witchcraft and Wizardly. People like them would never be accepted by people like his parents, especially because of the role Xenophilius played during the last battle. The Quibbler that helped Harry Potter start a movement of people who weren't afraid to rebel against the regime. Freaks of nature, those Lovegoods. That was what his parents, amongst many other purebloods, were convinced of. Draco chuckled. Shit. He didn't have a definite opinion about them yet, but he could definitely agree on how freaky they could get. How freaky one of them could get. In the bedroom. Or the other places they went at it. Out of all the girls he fucked in his life, she was by far the only one who made it feel like it wasn't _just_ fucking. Fuck.

Draco thought of the last time they were getting at it in his private quarters. As a Head Girl she could get in other Houses too. And she was smart to not get caught. Not that it wasn't allowed to visit Head Boys or Girls from other Houses, but because of the whole Slytherin-and-every-other-Hogwarts-House-are-sworn-enemies thing it was wise not to be seen. He remembered the last time. He just came back from that stupid Herbology lesson when he saw a note on his door with one simple mark drawn on it. Shit. He got hard just by thinking how hard he got when he that. He knew exactly what it meant. He knew exactly who he would find behind that door. He remembered taking a deep breath to calm himself before he opened the door. He should _never_ let her see that she could make him lose his cool. He unlocked the door and there she was in a tight number, _in her fucking House colors - the audacity._ Like that mattered to him though. Her lingerie covered just enough to awaken the beast inside him that immediately wanted to rip everything off her. But he didn't. After he closed the door he used the _murmelio_ spell and coolly stood there for 30 seconds, eyes cold and almost uninterested.

"You. What are you doing _here_?"

Luna let out a chuckle.

"What do you think that I'm doing here, Draco?"

Draco growled a little. He hated when she spoke in that soft, dreamy, actually almost absent voice of hers. He found it to be annoying yet intruiging at the same time.

" Was that you who left this note on the door?", he asked while he held up the piece of paper.

"That would be a fair assumption, unless you had someone else there as well."

Luna looked Draco in the eyes and hoped that the next few words coming out of his mouth wouldn't disappoint her.

"I haven't."

"Then yes, it's me."

"What do you want, Luna?"

"I want..."

"And what were you thinking wearing those God awful Ravenclaw colors in these fucking Slytherin chambers?"

Luna chuckled again.

"There is much truth to that, isn't there?"

"What...?"

"Just think about it", she said in her annoying yet intriguing voice.

"Merlin's beard, Luna! Could you STOP WITH THESE RIDDLES?!"

Luna let out a third annoying chuckle.

"You asked what I was thinking, wearing these colours in these fucking Slytherin chambers."

"Yeah, so?" Draco impatiently asked.

"So… There _has_ been a lot of fucking in these chambers, haven't there?"

Draco needed ten seconds to process those words. Luna looked at him amused.

"For fucks sake, Luna. Fuck you and your fucking use of words. Fuck your wordplay. FUCK YOU."

"I would very much like that, yes."

Draco went silent for a few seconds again. Shit. He hated her stupid low, dreamy, hippy voice. He hated how she could outsmart him with words. He fucking hated that there was still lingerie on her fucking body. And more importantly: he hated that he wasn't _in_ her. He was one and all rage and desire. He had managed to hold his composure for the last five minutes. But no more. That was all he could manage.

"You want me to fuck you? I'll _fucking_ _**fuck**_ you."

After that he wasn't thinking. He couldn't think. The only thing that mattered that she was there and for that moment she was his. His to kiss, his to be in as she mumbled 'more' in between thrusts.

Draco pulled himself back to the present. It wasn't a good idea to remember those moments. It only makes him want her more. He had to try and stay away from that dreamy, daresay hippy Ravenclaw. He needed a distraction.

4


End file.
